After dinner, we headed back to our suite, each retreating to our own bedrooms to freshen up. The moment I stepped into the bathroom, the warm scent of lavender bath salts filled the air, instantly relaxing me. I sank into the tub, letting the heat soothe my body, my thoughts drifting to the past few days. Everything still felt surreal—being here, with Suga, away from the noise of the world.

By the time I was done, I slipped into my sleepwear—an oversized sweater and shorts—before padding out to the living room. The suite was dimly lit, the soft glow from the ambient lights casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. I curled up on the couch, waiting for Suga.

A few minutes later, the door to his bedroom creaked open. I glanced up, expecting him to be in his usual casual clothes, but instead—

Oh, dear God.

He walked out in a bathrobe. Just a bathrobe. And somehow, he wore it so perfectly—loose enough to hint at his collarbones and just enough of his toned chest to make my mind go completely blank.

I swallowed hard. Then again. And again.

"Suga..." I started, my voice coming out weaker than I intended. "Could you...uh...get dressed?"

He stopped mid-step, looking at me with a knowing smirk. "Why?" he asked casually, running a hand through his damp hair.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. This man. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"W-Why?" I stammered, struggling to maintain eye contact. "Because—you can't just—wear that and—look like that!"

He chuckled, his deep voice laced with amusement. "Look like what?"

I threw a pillow at him. He dodged it effortlessly, laughing as he made his way toward the couch. I turned away, desperate to focus on something—anything—other than the fact that Suga, in a bathrobe, was now sitting just a few feet away from me.

"You're cute when you're flustered," he teased.

I scowled, hugging my knees. "I am not flustered."

He simply smirked again, leaning back into the couch, looking way too comfortable in his current state of undress. I huffed, deciding to ignore him. But that was easier said than done.

As the night went on, we talked about random things—even silly arguments over whether mint chocolate was an acceptable ice cream flavor.

And somewhere between the teasing, the laughter, and the quiet moments in between, I caught myself falling for him even more.

Not because he looked like a walking temptation in that damn robe.

But because of how easy it felt being with him. How every conversation felt effortless, how his presence alone made me feel safe, and how, for the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid of falling.

Because with him...it didn't feel scary at all.

It just felt right.

In the middle of our conversation, my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I glanced down, expecting a random notification—maybe a message from Break or my Papa checking in—but my breath caught when I saw the name on the screen.

Taehyung.

I blinked, taken aback. Taehyung was calling me?

Suga, on the other hand, didn't look the least bit surprised. He leaned back against the couch, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something knowing. As if he had expected this.

"You can answer it," Suga said smoothly, already pushing himself off the couch. "I'll step out for a bit so you can talk in private."

But before he could stand, I reached for his wrist, stopping him.

He looked at me, slightly taken aback, and somehow, that small moment of hesitation sent a rush of warmth through me. Without breaking eye contact, I let my phone ring and settle back on the table, untouched. Then, without thinking—without overanalyzing—I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Suga stilled. His skin was warm against my lips.

When I pulled away, I met his eyes and whispered, "I want this trip to just be about us. Just you and me. No one else."

A beat of silence. Then, something shifted in his gaze—something softer, something warmer. His lips quirked up, just barely, but I saw it. Felt it.

He exhaled, relaxing under my touch, and instead of pulling away, he leaned in ever so slightly, as if he wanted to close the space between us even more.

"Just us, huh?" he murmured.

I nodded, my fingers still curled around his wrist.

Suga let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as if I was impossible. Then, instead of standing up and leaving like he originally planned, he did the exact opposite—he settled in closer to me, our arms brushing, our legs barely touching.

And just like that, the world outside this suite—the missed call, the noise, the complications—none of it mattered.

Just him. Just me.

Just us.

The next morning, we set off for the Samcheok Ocean Railbike, just a short fifteen-minute drive from the resort. The air was crisp with a gentle ocean breeze, and the scent of salt and pine trees lingered as we arrived at the station. The railbike itself was charming—painted in bright colors, with a simple yet sturdy design that promised a peaceful ride along the coastline.

As we pedaled along the tracks, the vast East Sea stretched beside us, its endless blue shimmering under the sunlight. The waves crashed against the rocky shore, creating a soothing rhythm that blended with the quiet hum of the railbike wheels.

I turned to look at Suga.

His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but I could tell he was enjoying himself. There was a certain ease in the way he sat back, his hands lazily gripping the handlebars, the wind tousling his dark hair. He looked so effortlessly cool—so him.

And me? I was happy. Not just the kind of happiness that came from the beautiful scenery or the thrill of the ride, but something deeper. Something calming. Something I hadn't felt before.

But then, as I watched him, that happiness twisted into something else. Something I couldn't quite name.

Because suddenly, the reality of it all hit me.

Where did I stand in his life?

I wasn't his girlfriend.
We never talked about labels.
We never defined what this was.

And it wasn't as simple as two people falling for each other. Because he wasn't just anyone. He was Suga—a global icon, a star that burned so brightly, the entire world watched his every move.

And me? I was just...Clover.

Just a girl caught somewhere between happiness and uncertainty.

I let out a soft sigh, looking ahead at the winding tracks. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe I should just live in this moment and not worry about things that didn't have answers yet.

But as the wind carried my thoughts away, I couldn't help but wonder—

Would there ever be a place for me in his world?

The atmosphere at Deokjang Makguksu was warm and lively, the scent of freshly grilled seafood and handmade buckwheat noodles filling the air. Locals gathered around wooden tables, their conversations blending into a comfortable hum. The restaurant had a cozy charm, with the kind of authenticity that made you feel like you were truly experiencing a hidden gem of Samcheok.

But despite the inviting surroundings, I was quiet.

I didn't even realize how much I had withdrawn until Suga set his chopsticks down and looked at me, his brows knitting together in concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low yet firm.

I glanced up at him, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced.

"If you're feeling tired, we can go back to the suite and rest. You don't have to push yourself."

There it was again. That genuine concern in his voice. It wasn't just casual worry—it was him knowing.

Because Suga knew everything.

He knew about my heart. He knew what I needed. He knew why I had to be careful.

And yet, he never treated me like I was fragile.

I shook my head, dismissing his worry. "I promise, I'm fine. I think I'm just tired. That railbike ride was long."

Suga's eyes lingered on me for a moment longer before he sighed and picked up his chopsticks again. "Alright. But if you need to rest, just say so."

I nodded, appreciating his consideration more than I could express.

The food arrived—a spread of beautifully plated seafood dishes, including freshly grilled fish, lightly seasoned abalone, and a steaming bowl of buckwheat noodles. Everything smelled divine, but I still had to be mindful. Even though I was starving, I instinctively went for the lighter options—the grilled seabass with a squeeze of lemon, the vegetables, the plain noodles without too much seasoning.

Suga noticed, of course. He always did.

I hated how my condition always lingered in moments like this. But with Suga, it never felt like a burden. He didn't make me feel like something was wrong with me. He just cared—quietly, without making it a big deal.

By the time we returned to the suite, my body felt heavier than usual. I wasn't sure if it was exhaustion from the day or if my heart was just reminding me to slow down. Either way, I needed to rest.

But I couldn't let Suga notice.

The last thing I wanted was for him to cut our trip short because of me. He already worried about me enough.

So, I masked my fatigue with a small yawn and stretched my arms. "I think I'll take a nap," I said casually.

Suga, who had just flopped onto the couch, glanced at me. "Good. You need to rest." His voice was gentle but firm, as if he'd already been thinking the same thing.

I nodded, forcing a smile, and headed straight to my room. The moment I closed the door behind me, I let out a slow breath. My heart felt heavy, my chest a little tight. I knew exactly what I needed—my meds and a long nap.

After taking my medication, I crawled into bed, pulling the soft covers around me. Within minutes, exhaustion won. My thoughts blurred, and I slipped into sleep, safe in the knowledge that for now, everything was okay.

***

I woke up to the golden glow of the setting sun filtering through my curtains. I stretched lazily, feeling surprisingly refreshed.

Just as I was about to check my phone, there was a soft knock on my door.

"Clover?" Suga's voice was calm, almost teasing. "You up? Let's go for a walk."

I blinked, a little disoriented, but his voice made me smile. A walk at sunset? Sounded perfect.

I quickly freshened up, throwing on a comfortable yet cute outfit, and stepped out to find him waiting for me. He had his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable yet undeniably warm.

"Come on," he said, nodding toward the beach.

We walked side by side, the sand cool beneath our feet, the sky painted in soft hues of pink and orange. The ocean stretched endlessly, waves lapping against the shore in a steady rhythm. It was peaceful.

But as we walked further, I noticed something ahead—a cozy setup near the shore. A picnic.

Fairy lights twinkled softly, wrapped around wooden poles, casting a gentle glow over a low table with plush cushions. A small fire pit flickered, adding warmth to the crisp evening air. There was a bouquet of flowers sitting in a glass jar, a bottle of juice (because he knew I couldn't drink alcohol), and an assortment of snacks.

I turned to Suga, stunned. "Did you...?"

He just smirked, leading me toward the setup. "Sit."

I obeyed, still trying to process the thoughtfulness of it all.

He played a soft melody on his phone, something familiar but different. Then, to my complete shock, he started humming along... before softly singing.

I felt my heart tighten—not in pain, but in something overwhelmingly warm.

When the song ended, Suga exhaled, as if steadying himself. Then he turned to me, his dark eyes holding something deeper than usual.

"Clover," he started, taking my hand in his.

I swallowed, my pulse racing.

"You already know I don't do things like this often," he continued, his thumb gently brushing against my fingers. "I don't open up easily. I don't let people in easily. But you..." He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "You changed that."

I didn't dare breathe.

"I don't know when it started, but all I know is that when I'm with you, I don't want to be anywhere else. It's not just about you being here with me—it's about you being mine."

My heart stopped.

"Clover," he said, his voice softer now, more vulnerable. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

I wasn't expecting this.

Not from him.

Not from Suga. One of the brightest stars in the universe. Someone whose light reached places I could never even dream of standing in. And yet, here he was, holding my hand, looking at me like I was something just as important.

And he was asking me to be his.

My heart screamed yes. I wanted to say it, wanted to throw myself into his arms, wanted to be selfish just this once. I wanted him to be mine just as much as I wanted to be his.

But then, reality kicked in.

My future was uncertain. My heart—this heart—was already on borrowed time. I wasn't even sure if I'd get another chance, another heart. And even if I did... I wasn't confident I'd survive it.

What if something went wrong?

What if I left, and he was the one left behind?

What if his world crumbled because of me?

I clenched my jaw, willing myself to stay strong, but before I even knew it, a tear slipped down my cheek.

"I'm sorry."

The words came out in a whisper, barely audible, but I knew he heard them.

I gently pulled my hand away and stood up. My chest felt unbearably tight, my breath uneven, but I forced myself to walk away.

_________

a/n: Hello, Clovers! I sincerely apologize for the long wait—it took me a month to post an update, but here it is! I hope you enjoyed reading it.

The delay was due to me adjusting to my new job, which I started last January 2. I wanted to make sure I was in the right state to polish the next chapters before sharing them with you.

Now, I'd love to hear your thoughts! What do you think about the story so far? How did you feel when Clover rejected Suga? And what do you think will happen next? Let me know in the comments—I'd love to read your theories!

The next update will be coming this weekend, so stay tuned! Thank you for your patience and support. It truly means a lot!

With love,
Tiana Vianne